


How Much Wood Could Canada Chuck

by RavenclawProngs



Series: Tumbling Through the World [9]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Human & Country Names Used (Hetalia), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 02:24:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15985613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenclawProngs/pseuds/RavenclawProngs
Summary: He would chuck as much wood as Canada could chuck, if Canada could chuck wood.Spoilers: he can, and it's a lot.





	1. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter happens before _Eine Plotze_ and after _Maple Walnut Freeze._

"Hey Birdie!  I've come to visit you!  We're going to hang out and do awesome things together!  Birdie?  Where are you?"  Frowning in confusion, Gilbert hung his jacket by the door he'd so recently flung open.  Normally Matthew would greet him at the door, or at least from the kitchen.  Granted, his flight had gotten in early, so maybe Matt was off doing something else.

He ducked his head into the closet, trying to determine if any of Matt's shoes were missing.  Winter boots, galoshes, dress shoes, sneakers... there!  Matthew's heavy work boots were gone.

Grabbing his jacket again, Gilbert headed back outside, going around to the back of the house this time.  And there was Matt, in rough jeans and a flannel shirt, chopping wood.  Gilbert was confused as to why he hadn't heard the rental car pull up in his driveway until he noticed a thin white cord snaking out of Matthew's front pocket to disappear under his hair.

He stood there for a moment, wondering when Matt would notice he was there, content to watch the manual labor in progress until he did.

The mid-Autumn sunset filtered through the trees, painting Matthew with its orange-y rays and turning his hair nearly ethereal.

As he watched, Matthew pulled up the tail of his shirt and wiped the sweat from his face, nearly transparent white undershirt doing nothing to disguise his firm abs.  Gilbert felt his mouth go dry, and cursed himself ten kinds of fool for not realizing earlier what a hunk his friend was.  Then he cursed himself twelve kinds of fool for noticing.

Finally remembering his decorum, he cleared his throat and called out, "Matthew!  Just how much wood does one cabin need for the winter anyway?  Don't you have like three sheds of it?"

And indeed Matt did have several outbuildings and lean-tos scattered around the property, but only two of them actually contained firewood.  At the moment.

Matthew pulled his headphones out of his ears and grinned wryly at Gilbert.

"I just like to be prepared, eh?  When'd you get in, I thought your flight wasn't supposed to arrive for another hour?"

Gilbert shrugged.  "Not too long ago.  You weren't inside, so I had to track you down."

Matt grimaced apologetically.  "Sorry about that.  You eaten yet?  I need a shower first, but after that we can get started on dinner."

Gilbert shrugged.  Truthfully, air travel made him a little queasy, so he hadn't been able to eat on the flight at all.  Back on the ground and faced with the offer of Matthew's cooking, his appetite was coming back with a vengeance.  "I could eat.  What did you have in mind?  I can get started while you go clean up."

Matt smiled gratefully, lodging the ax in the stump and turning to lead the way inside.  "I was thinking maybe meatball subs.  I hadn't decided on a side yet, you want to handle that?"

Gilbert grinned maniacally.  "Leave it to me!  I'll make the best boiled potatoes you've ever tasted!"

Matt laughed delightedly, grateful for Gilbert's lively enthusiasm.  "I'm looking forward to it."

Grabbing Gilbert's luggage from beside the door, Matt waved him off into the kitchen and headed upstairs to shower and change, dropping the small bag off in his main guestroom.

For his part, Gilbert was looking around Matt's kitchen with a kind of restrained glee.  He wasn't a bad cook or an especially messy one, but lately whenever he was at home, Ludwig would follow him around and hover, cleaning up any spills just as soon as they happened.  As if Gilbert wasn't just as tidy as his brother.  Must be too used to Italy being in the kitchen, he mused.

After some rummaging through the cupboards, he managed to round up the supplies he'd need and got to work scrubbing the potatoes.  He was almost done chopping them when the shower went off, and the water had yet to boil when Matt came down the stairs smelling lightly of pine and something spicy.

He smiled slightly to see what progress Gilbert had made on their dinner and set to work on the main course, hip-checking his friend lightly when he was blocking the cupboard Matt needed.  More than once, Matt caught himself musing about how surprisingly comfortable it was to have someone else in his kitchen.

Usually if anyone one else was making food in his home, it was Alfred lighting up the grill outside or taking over the turkey for Thanksgiving dinner, Francis taking over the entire island and half of the other countertop with something elaborate and deliciously fattening, or Arthur tidily working away in one corner of the space, shooing Matthew away while he was baking something for his erstwhile colony's horrible sweet tooth.  All of it was special occasion cooking, and seldom anything he was even allowed to help with (in his own kitchen!); he honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd had someone to cook with when it was just the simple, everyday kind of food he favored.  It was... nice.  Even just having someone else to help keep Kumajirou out of the food was nice.  Al was usually good for that, but Francis and Arthur both snuck him tidbits when they thought Matthew wasn't looking, citing "older brother's privilege" when he called them out on it.  He very tactfully didn't mention they both did it.

Francis would probably just chuckle and maybe murmur something about it being romantic to treat your children the same.  However, he'd also probably eventually mention it to Arthur, who would blow his stack no matter who said such a thing, but especially Francis.  Really, it was better all around if Matthew just kept this one to himself.

Right now, Kumajirou was attempting to con a meatball out of Gilbert, who was chuckling and gently holding him off with one well cared-for boot while he stirred the sauce so Matt could check on the rolls toasting in the oven.

Satisfied with the level of toastiness achieved, Matt pulled the rolls out of the oven and set them aside while he and Gilbert dished up the rest of the food.


	2. Lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter happens after _Green-Eyed Monster._

Gilbert jumped out of the car, eager to be back at Matthew's after having to be home for a while.  He bounded up the steps and flung open the front door, calling out a cheesy, "Honey, I'm home!"

When that failed to elicit any response, he frowned and poked his head into the living-room, where he could just see Kumajirou rousing from a nap.

"Hey, _Bärrchen,_ where's Birdie?"

"Who?"

Gilbert sighed, long past the point of frustration with the bear's memory problems.  "Canada?  Tall blond guy who gives you fish?"

"Oh, him.  He's outside."

 _"_ _Danke."_   Leaving his carry-on by the door, he headed back out into the summer heat, only to find his boyfriend chopping wood.  Again.  He'd wondered at the lush forest surrounding Matt's house, given the amount of trees that got turned into firewood on a regular basis--until Matt invited him to "Arbor Week", when Matt went around his property planting trees and tagging the older ones that would be next year's firewood.  And by "property," he properly meant "Canada."  It was clear why it took a week, is all.  Gil's shoulders ached just thinking about it.

In deference to the heat, Matt had taken off his flannel work shirt and tied it around his waist.  His hair was pulled back into a tiny ponytail at the back of his neck, a bit at the sides and front falling free and sticking to his forehead.  His biceps bulged as he swung the ax rhythmically, flexing and contracting as he moved.  A droplet of sweat trickled from his hairline and trailed down his neck, late afternoon sunshine transforming it into a jewel before it got absorbed by Matt's undershirt.  Gilbert felt his mouth water, wanting to follow that drop with his tongue and bite gently at Matthew’s biceps, run his fingers through Matt's hair until it all curled damply around his face.

Then he realized how hard he was staring at his friend and chastised himself.

Then he re-remembered, _Wait, no, I'm staring at my **boyfriend,** it's fine.  Well, okay, but there's no call for being creepy about it._

So he settled back against a tree and waited for Matt to notice him.  It only took a few minutes but he thoroughly enjoyed them, watching Matt's easy confidence with his task, hands wrapped firmly around the wooden shaft of the tool.  When Matthew finally noticed him, he thunked the blade down into the stump carelessly and gave him an easy, brilliant smile, coming over to him with the unconscious grace of someone completely at home in their own skin.

"Hi honey, I'm home," Gil quipped, staring shamelessly at Matt's chest through his nearly transparent t-shirt.  Matt smirked.

"I can see that.  And just how long have you been standing there?" Matt asked, leaning in.  He smelled of pine and clean sweat and Gil just wanted to lick him.

"Long enough," he growled, and pulled Matt in for a thorough and enthusiastic kiss.  Matt murmured happily against his lips and pressed him further against the tree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Bärrchen_ = "little bear"; it's usually used as an affectionate nickname, not just a description


End file.
